lighting the fuse....

i have a real problem: i am too good at arguing. 

on saturday night at around midnight i walked away from a lengthy and finely-tuned (on my part at least..) debate with a doorman, who had refused to let me and nick smoke our cigarettes in peace....we were leaving the pub, and going somewhere else. as we waited for our friends to exit the building, we smoked. now, we smoked on a certain patch of pavement that the bar had promised its restaurant neighbours would not be occupied by its customers. 'but we are no longer your customers,' i assured him. 'but you were....' he stuttered......you can imagine how this went. just because this small man had a high-viz vest on, and a walkie-talkie in hand, meant that he was empowered to shoo me away. i was on the pavement. i was not naked. i was not smoking anything illegal. i was not even swearing at him. he insisted on pursuing his party line, so eventually i let him have it, the full force of my broad vocabulary and the alarming clarity of my deeply held and perfectly articulated belief that i would not be moved. 

yesterday, i went to the supermarket with my mother. she stayed in the car, i went in for some wine, and various bit and bobs. you can imagine where this is going.....i got to the check-out, and as the cashier put the mayonnaise and the ibruprofen etc through the bleeping till, it dawned on me that this was the very same tesco at which cate, sal, liv, rusty, matt, fran and fiona had en masse been refused alcohol several weeks earlier, due to the policy of the stores to now ask for ID to buy alcohol, should a customer appear to be below the age of thirty. my eyes were fixed on the cashier as she picked up the first bottle of wine, turned to me and said, ever so quietly 'do you have any ID, to buy the alcohol?' "no,' i replied, 'i am twenty-eight years old.' i looked at her and with everything in me, without another word, beseeched her (for her own sake) to not take this conversation any further. she began to explain 'the rule' to me and, well, i began to prepare myself for what i was about to do.......the manager came over and very calmly, and assuredly, i explained to her my objections to her company's rule. now the thing about me is, that the longer a conversation like this goes on, i become more, not less convinced. and (thankfully, given my line of work) i also become increasingly articulate and confident. the discussion went on. i asked her to explain to me precisely how the staff are trained in age assessment, given that council workers and medical staff are trained for years to assess unaccompanied asylum-seeking children for their age, how on earth can the entire workforce of tesco be accredited in such a detailed and difficult skill?? how can they think that it is acceptable to the customer that they be obliged to prove themselves to fit into a twelve-year gap between the actual law and the company's own age-limit? i was grinning for most of it, and not even just inwardly, just grinning, thinking about sal a few weeks ago, called her mum and putting her onto the woman in this same store. eventually MY MUM had to come in and buy the booze. when the woman turned to her and asked 'is this alcohol for her, though?' (pointing at me...) i said 'don't start that, its her money! its her clubcard! its her house and you can't ask her to promise you that she's not going to give me any of the wine!!' i was fuming...

but i came home and began plotting the next moves in my legal career. I AM STILL LIVID. the pinot bianco tasted pretty bloody good last night though.....oh but it makes me so cross!!!!

and if ONE of you comes out with assurances that 'at least they think you look under thirty!' or 'you'll be wishing in a few years that they think you look under thirty!' or 'take the compliment that they think you look under thirty'  - I AM UNDER THIRTY! 

oooooooh